


Dead Men's Boots (and a Couple of Wine-Skins)

by misura



Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21546646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: In which William Garin gets himself a new pair of old boots and also almost killed, but then, what else is new?.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Dead Men's Boots (and a Couple of Wine-Skins)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brenda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brenda/gifts).



After a long and hard battle, William'd figured he'd earned a drink, so he'd found a reasonably wealthy looking corpse and grabbed the guy's wine-skin, reasoning that a guy rich enough to afford that sort of armor would have also been able to afford the good stuff - or at least the okay stuff.

His mistake, it seemed.

"This wine tastes like horse piss," William told one of the Spaniards. Nice gents, Spaniards. William got the impression they cussed a lot and they all seemed to have quick tempers, which was a plus in his book, since nobody objected to your taking a man's purse after he'd tried to knife you.

He'd gotten a pair of boots that almost fit that way, too. Really, it was almost a pity this war was just about over. A man could get used to this country.

"What makes you think it's not?" the guy replied, in passable English.

William took another sip. "Good question. Very good question, in fact."

The Spaniard grinned at him, lifting a wine-skin of his own, saying, "Now this right here, it's - " which was when someone stuck a knife in his back and he fell over. His expression suggested he'd been surprised, a sentiment William could understand.

"Mine," someone said, taking the wine-skin.

William tried not to stare. He might be able to take the guy, but, well, long, hard day. Plus, he figured he wasn't going to get knifed for some horse piss wine.

"You know, I think that guy was actually on your side," he said, drinking some more. The taste kind of grew on you, he decided. "Or our side, I guess I should say."

"Do I look like I give a shit?" the Spaniard asked. "Besides, he took something that didn't belong to him. In Espana, we don't like thieves any better than we like Franks."

"Well. You sure showed him. And them," William said. "Good job."

The Spaniard sneered at him and raised the wine-skin to his lips. "I don't need some Inglesi to tell me. What's your name, then, buttercup?"

"It is, in fact, not buttercup," William said. He considered proposing they tried to guess each other's names for a while - winner takes both wine-skins, but it felt like too much effort for too little profit. He had his wine, the Spaniard had wine, why make things complicated? "It's William. What's yours?"

As it turned out, the guy's name was Tovar and as far as William could determine, Tovar was a mean son of a puta who did not like the English, the Franks, the Pope, or anyone else.

William's kind of guy, in other words.

"I killed a duke for this wine, you know," Tovar said. "I did him a favor. He was as good as dead already. I just made it quick. Clean. He would have wanted me to have his wine, to drink it. But he had some money, too, hidden away somewhere, so I looked for that, first, and then when I turned around - " Tovar shook his head and spat.

"No honor among thieves and Spaniards, huh?" William tried to look sympathetic. He did feel sympathetic. It was a terrible world out there, unfair and unjust and very, very unfriendly.

"You calling me a thief, amigo?" Tovar asked, an edge to his voice.

There was also a bit of a slur to it, though, so William figured he was safe. "Not at all. I'm calling you a Spaniard. Which you are. Right?"

"That I am, and proudly so," Tovar said. "Of course, I say this only because they are paying me."

William nodded. He wondered how he ever could have considered his wine to be of an inferior vintage. It was good stuff. Decent stuff. It got the job done, which was all that mattered in the end, wasn't it? No need to get fancy. You got the job done, you got to eat, maybe earn a bit of money.

"So listen," he said, "I've got an idea."

Tovar gave him a look. "Does this idea of yours involve the two of us taking off all our clothes and getting naked together? Because if so, I'm in."

William gulped down some more horse piss. "Really?"

"See?" William said. "What'd I tell you? The clothes are always the last to go. And there's some good pickings here. I mean, look at this shirt."

Tovar squinted. Fair enough: it was the middle of the night, and the moon didn't seem in any mood to make this any easier. Still, it was now or never, and William'd kind of liked the idea of getting a nice belt along with his boots. Or socks. Socks would be good, but they were also the hardest to find.

William didn't think wanting some socks without holes in them was that big a thing to ask for, honestly. Alas.

"It's very dirty," Tovar said.

"See? That's the genius," William said. "One proper wash, and it's as good as new. You've just got to look beyond the obvious, put a bit of effort into it. There's treasure all around us."

Tovar wrinkled his nose. "Also rather a lot of dead men. They smell."

"They stink," William corrected. "And so what? Don't tell me you've gone squeamish on me all of a sudden. Have some more wine."

Tovar sighed. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."

"Come to what?" William asked, but part of him already knew, had begun to move the moment Tovar had finished speaking, so instead of Tovar ending up with a knife to his throat, they ended up rolling around over the corpses for a bit before William managed to get his own knife pointed at Tovar's vital organs.

That seemed like a pretty favorable outcome, but then he felt Tovar's blade prick at his stomach, and he realized that nope, they'd only gotten themselves a stalemate.

So much for getting to drink some wine that didn't taste like horse piss.

"You seem like a nice guy, for an Inglesi," Tovar said.

"You seem like an asshole," William said. "I mean, seriously? For a shirt? Look at it, it's a dirty rag. There's holes in it and everything. You think those bloodstains are going to come out with water and a bit of soap? Think again. Not going to happen. Trust me, I know these things."

"Trust you?" Tovar scoffed. "Do I look like that much of a fool to you, amigo?"

"Look," William said, "how about I count to three and then we both put away our knives?"

"You first," Tovar said.

"That's not how that works. The whole idea is that we do it at the same time. That's why you - oh, forget it. Fine. You win. Have the shirt. I don't care." William thought Tovar might still try to kill him, but having a nervous guy holding a knife to your guts wasn't a good situation to be in. Much better to fix that first, deal with what followed later.

He slowly sheathed his knife.

Tovar grinned at him, baring his teeth. "That's very reasonable of you."

"What can I say, I'm a reasonable guy," William said.

Tovar sighed and mumbled something in Spanish before he got off of him, helping William up as well, which William figured was a good sign. He held out the shirt, and Tovar took it.

"Wine-skin, too," Tovar said. "And I'm taking your boots. I like them."

"You expect me to walk around on my bare feet?" William didn't think that was at all reasonable.

"Get one of theirs." Tovar gestured around them, to the dead. "They won't mind."

"All right, at least help me find some that are my size," William said. "I mean, honestly, I think I deserve that much, don't you?"

"Life isn't fair, Inglesi," Tovar said. "Men do not all get what they deserve."

"You can say that again," William muttered.

Tovar nodded at one of the corpses. "How about that one?"

"You're quick. And good," William said, gingerly touching the lump on his forehead.

Tovar sniffed. William'd gotten in a few good hits, too. Pure luck that Tovar'd ended up on top and in a position to claim the spoils. "You're predictable, amigo. You and me - we're too alike. It means I can read your mind, know what you are going to do, because it is what I would do in your place."

"Maybe." William sighed. He missed his wine-skin. A man shouldn't have to spend the night after a battle sober. "So what are your plans for the future?"

"What's it to you?" Tovar asked. "We met, we fought, I won. Then we fought some more and I won again. Are we sweethearts now, so where one of us goes, the other has to follow?"

"I could use a friend," William said.

Tovar chuckled. "I'm sure you could." He sipped some wine, then spat it out and cursed.

"Told you."

"A true friend would have told me again and again and again, until I believed it," Tovar said, wiping his mouth.

William smiled at him. "Willing to work at it if you are. Come on, what do you say? Partners?"


End file.
